


All About Us

by postingpebbles



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Arranged Marriage, Falling In Love, Gen, M/M, Pining, Slow Burn, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-26
Updated: 2018-10-26
Packaged: 2019-08-06 20:12:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16394324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/postingpebbles/pseuds/postingpebbles
Summary: “Until the end of the summer,” Viktor says to him. “If you still feel the same way by the end of the summer, we can annul our marriage.”And Yuuri agrees.--Even as the second-in-line for the throne, Yuuri is all-too-familiar with the concept of sacrifices for the sake of his country. After all, he’s marrying a stranger to solidify an alliance written years before his birth. But once Yuuri meets him, Crown Prince Viktor Nikiforov is nothing like he imagined. And when he offers him a chance to return home without any consequences—Yuuri immediately accepts, fully confident that he would leave in a few short months and never fall in love.He didn’t expect that he actually would.





	All About Us

**Author's Note:**

  * For [japansace](https://archiveofourown.org/users/japansace/gifts).



> Happy birthday Abby! This fic has been in the works for the better part of a year (and is somehow only one chapter deep despite that haha), and it's full of our favorite tropes: royalty and hopelessly pining viktuuri <3
> 
> I love you lots!!
> 
> (And a special thank you to [Addy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adrianna99) and [Rimi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ADreamingSongbird) for screaming with me as I was writing; you both are incredible <3)

Kievan is a beautiful kingdom.

Yuuri desperately wants to hate it, but he can’t find it within himself to dismiss the rich, rolling fields, or the villages and towns that pass by the window of the train car. Of course, the country’s brilliant state is definitely due to the fact that Kievan has one of the strongest economies in the world; it’s no wonder that his parents were so eager to arrange a marriage between himself and the Crown Prince.

“It’s going to be okay,” Yuuko says then, drawing his attention away from the window. She places a hand on his knee and squeezes in what’s probably supposed to be a reassuring manner, but it only serves to wind up Yuuri’s anxiety even more. “Prince Viktor is very kind. He’s looked forward to meeting you for years now.”

Yuuri thinks of the last letter he received before having to pack every single one of his belongings away. Their exchanged correspondence was careful and polite, and almost distant in the language. Crown Prince Viktor _had_ expressed a wish to meet Yuuri more and more in his recent letters, but perhaps writing in Common, the only shared language between them, didn’t allow everything to come across. There’s only so much one could express through writing.  

Yuuko gives him another kind smile, then focuses her attention back to the sheaf of papers stacked by her side. The tiny print is illegible from Yuuri’s point of view, even with his glasses on, and it’s such a wonder that Yuuko hasn’t gone blind yet from reading countless treaties and documents drafted between Nihon and other kingdoms. When she sets that page aside, though, the dark, heavy strokes of Yuuri’s own signature at the bottom are made visible.

As the youngest and the second-in-line for the throne, Yuuri can count the number of documents he’s had to sign on one hand. His stomach rolls—he knows what _exactly_ what this one is.

So Yuuri looks out the window again, trying to swallow the nausea crawling up his throat.

The tiny villages they passed earlier have grown into larger, sprawling towns, and the almost endless greenery that Yuuri admired before is now petering off into paved cobblestone. It’s becoming more industrial, the buildings and carriages nicer, and there’s a distinct air of change in the area.

Like Hasetsu, Petrograd is a seaside kingdom. Since Yuuri’s going to be staying here for the rest of his foreseeable life, he’s glad for this one constant amidst a whirlwind of change. Already, he can see the seagulls drifting lazily in the cloudy sky above, and the sunlight bouncing off the ocean in the distance. It’s peaceful.

The rumbling of the train, steady in the background of Yuuri’s mind, begins to quiet and slow once they pull into the station. He can’t see much from this tiny train car, but he _can_ see the slowly thickening crowd outside.

“Do you think there’s always this many people here?” Yuuri murmurs, drawing back from the window. “I know Nihon’s a much smaller kingdom compared to others, but I didn’t realize how _big_ Kievan would be.”

“It makes sense since Petrograd is the capital,” Yuuko tells him absently, moving around their compartment to make one last sweep before they leave the train. “It’s _much_ busier than Hasetsu. Oh, and don’t forget your bag,” she adds, placing it on his seat.

Yuuri doesn’t reply, and lets his gaze drift back outside. He’s okay with large crowds, _has_ to be since he’s Nihon’s prince, but the amount of people outside still brings that uncomfortable itch under his skin. It’s like a human ocean around the platform, the constant movement drawing Yuuri’s eyes everywhere.

Dark, muted clothes seem to be a constant among the citizens of any kingdom these days, and Kievan is no exception. Of course, there are people wealthy enough to bob around in rich canary yellows and forest greens (Yuuri thinks of his own navy-colored coat with a bit of shame), but they’re only small bursts of color within a monochrome canvas. Yuuri swears he sees a flash of magenta once, but it quickly melts back into the shifting crowd before he can find the source. It’s still relatively cold during April in Petrograd, so people are bundled in heavy coats and thick scarves and hats, doing their best to keep warm.  

Yuuri’s so distracted by the number of people in the station that Yuuko has to tap his shoulder twice to pull his attention away from the window. “Let’s go, Yuuri,” she says briskly, looking over her shoulder as she leaves the compartment. “We can’t keep our escorts waiting.”

“Ah, coming!” Yuuri calls when she leaves the compartment, taking one last look out the window. Something’s still niggling at the back of his mind—something _important_ that he can’t seem to remember.

Yuuri drums his fingers against his thigh. What was it?

Deciding to put it aside for now, he slings his bag over his shoulder and walks out of the compartment. His bag only holds a change of clothes for later, tonight, and the next day, along with other essentials. The rest of Yuuri’s family are arriving tomorrow morning with the remainder of his belongings because they didn’t want him to be burdened with three heavy trunks during his “first official meeting with his intended.”

(Yuuri thinks it’s considerate of them since he’s already burdened with his own feelings about the marriage.)

“Yuuri!” he hears Yuuko’s voice say from a few feet away. She pops her head around the corner, a disapproving expression already lacing itself across her lovely features. It’s a look that Yuuri’s intimately familiar with, and it’s only increased in strength once she had the triplets. “The train will leave, and you’ll still be on it if you don’t get yourself off _now._ ”

He smiles a little, despite himself. “Yes, yes,” he laughs, quickly falling behind her. “I’m right here.”

Once they step off the train though, everything breaks loose—the dull roar of conversation _explodes_ as the people milling around the station swarm them, and Yuuri’s panic skyrockets.

Voices babble excitedly in Kievanese as people press closer and tug at his clothes, and the only thing that Yuuri can pick out from the unfamiliar language is his name. He twists around to find Yuuko, and his breaths become shallower when he discovers that she’s nowhere to be found.

“Yuuko!” Yuuri cries as he’s swept away, trying to look for her before he’s swallowed by the crowd. _“Yuuko!”_ Yuuri stands on his tiptoes, his head swiveling as he tries to push through the mass of people. It’s getting harder to breathe, his vision is darkening at the edges, bodies are pressing against Yuuri on all sides, and he needs to _get out._

A hand clamps then around Yuuri’s wrist, pulling him through the crowd, and then he’s behind a pillar and face-to-face with a man with silver hair and the most striking blue eyes Yuuri’s ever seen.

“Are you all right?” he asks, the Common words tinged with a soft Kievanese accent, but Yuuri only shakes his head and grips the man’s tan sleeves like a lifeline. The man’s eyes widen with alarm, and though Yuuri’s sure he’s saying something else, all he can focus on is trying to slow his breathing and calm down enough to pull himself out of the feeling of panic.

 _Breathe,_ he tells himself. He can’t let himself fall apart here.

It takes a few more minutes for Yuuri’s heartbeat to return to normal, and by the time he emerges from his haze, he realizes that he still hasn’t let go of the stranger’s arms and that Yuuko has somehow gotten here and is now rubbing calming circles on his back.

“You’re okay, Yuuri,” she murmurs, her voice soft and gentle. “You’re okay.”

He allows himself to lean into the familiar touch, those hands having coaxed him out of many episodes of panic in the last twenty-three years. Once he feels calmer, Yuuri finally loosens his grip and the man begins to massage the spots where his hands had been. Yuuri bites his lip.

“I’m sorry,” he blurts out, meeting the other’s startled gaze. “For earlier.” It’s not only embarrassing for himself that a complete stranger witnessed his mental breakdown, but for Kievan as well. The whole country would know how weak Yuuri is if this ever gets out. He can hear the gossip now—how could someone like the Nihonjin prince ever rule properly by their heir’s side?

And the most ridiculous thing is that Yuuri’s completely capable. He _knows_ he’s capable. But is he even good enough to amount to anything more than a convenience? Is he good enough to prove that he deserves to stand here, in Petrograd, when other kingdoms who tried desperately for a union with Kievan have failed because Yuuri was chosen to wed the Crown Prince instead?

Yet the man simply gives him a polite smile, charming and stiff around the edges and giving nothing away. “It’s fine. We should’ve been more discreet about your arrival.”

Yuuko shakes her head. “No, it’s my fault—we should’ve brought Otabek with us.” A few strands of hair have fallen from her bun. “I can’t _believe_ I thought we’d be okay traveling alone. I’m so sorry for causing everyone trouble.” Her hands are still on Yuuri’s back, her touch light.

“Nevertheless, it’s wonderful to see you again, Lady Yuuko,” the man tells her. The change in his tone, now warm and full of familiarity, makes Yuuri lift his head up slightly. Do they know each other? “I have to apologize for the crowd—the people are quite excited to meet my fiancé.” Then to Yuuri, ruefully, “I’d hoped our first meeting would go better than it did earlier.”

“Likewise, Your Highness,” Yuuko replies, stepping back from Yuuri and bowing deeply. “It’s a great honor to return to Kievan with your intended.”

Yuuri’s heart begins to beat unsteadily in his chest. As he looks at the man— _really_ looks at him—he wants to smack himself for not realizing sooner. Yuuri’s gotten exactly _one_ portrait of his intended during their rare moments of contact, and that was from a little less than a decade ago.

Long, flowing silver locks still frame his face, but gone is the willowy figure like a fae from legend, and, strangely enough, the spark in those vibrant blue eyes. Now, Crown Prince Viktor Nikiforov’s hair is pulled back in a low ponytail, his frame is sinewy with strength under the tan overcoat, and he’s still just as breathtakingly beautiful as his portrait depicted.

 _This_ is the man that Yuuri’s going to marry. How plain he must seem to someone as brilliant as Viktor.

Yuuri recalls the countless trips that Yuuko’s mother (and later Yuuko herself) had to make here in the past to make changes and additions to the treaty formed between their two countries; it explained the slight informality that Yuuko and Viktor had with each other.

“Yes,” Viktor agrees, checking his watch distractedly. “We should get going before we get surrounded again. Mila’s waiting outside in the carriage.”

“She came with you?” Yuuko says, linking her arm with Yuuri’s. “I can’t say I’m surprised, though—the last time I was here, she was fairly excited about Yuuri’s arrival.”

Viktor exhales, pinching his forehead. “I think she’s more excited to have a new face around. Milochka’s gotten more and more restless since her last birthday; there’s only so much that Petrograd and Kievan can hold for someone with a spirit like hers.”

 _Mila,_ Yuuri thinks. Third-in-line for the throne, the only girl out of four children, and a few months shy of turning eighteen.

And in two days hence, she’ll be his sister. It’s a terrifying concept.

They duck out from behind the pillar and start to make their way out of the station as quickly and as inconspicuously as possible, somehow managing to make it out without being spotted again. The frenzy from earlier had died down as they hid, and Yuuri can’t help the relieved sigh that escapes him when he sees the smaller crowd.

As they step out of the station, Yuuko pulls him closer, her smaller body warm against his own. Viktor is leading the way, his strides sure and confident, and his shoes tapping smartly on the cobblestone. And as Viktor walks forward, his silvery hair spills down the back of his coat, rippling like water in the cold wind.

Yuuri still doesn’t know what to think of him. Viktor was kind enough to ground him even as waves of panic threatened to drown him, but there’s still something _there_ that Yuuri isn’t sure how to cross. It’s scary, really, that there’s so much resting on Yuuri’s ability to step forward out of his comfort zone.

(And what if Viktor becomes fond of the confident Yuuri? It’s not—it’s _not_ him; confidence is something he lacks, something he’s never really had, what’s going to happen if Yuuri can’t keep up something that he isn’t any longer?)

“Over here!” a young woman in a long black coat and wavy red hair cut into a bob calls to them. “Vitya! Yuuko!”

“Princess!” Yuuko greets happily, pulling Yuuri along. Honestly, it’s really him holding onto her now; his mind is much too muddled to do much else besides doing his best to keep upright.

“I’m glad you had a safe journey,” Mila tells them, the skin around her eyes crinkling as she smiles.

“There was some of trouble at the platform, but otherwise everything was fine,” Yuuko says, glancing at Viktor. “The prince managed to get us out before it got worse.”

But Mila’s already zeroing in on Yuuri, excitement flashing across her face. “Ah! Are you Yuuri? You’re so much _prettier_ than your portrait—your painter didn’t do you justice at _all._ ” She turns to her brother, fixing him with a sly grin. “Vitya, what do you think? Isn’t your fiancé pretty?”

Viktor looks slightly bewildered, and Yuuri’s cheeks burn with embarrassment. “Y-Yes,” he manages, averting his gaze. “Very pretty. We should go,” Viktor adds abruptly, opening the carriage door for them. “My parents are expecting us shortly.”

Yuuri clambers gratefully in, soon followed by Yuuko, Mila, then Viktor himself. The two siblings draw the curtains, shielding the inside from the worst of the wind chill, and Yuuri sags against Yuuko.

“Here’s a blanket,” she says, pulling it out of her bag. “It’ll keep you warm.”

Yuuri wordlessly accepts the proffered item and spreads the fleece over their legs. His nerves had kept him awake during the entire train ride, and the feeling of warmth washing over him only makes his exhaustion clear.

Viktor seems to notice his fatigue, and offers a tentative smile. “You should sleep, Yuuri,” he says. “It’ll take us a while to get there, so get some rest.”

“We’ll talk quietly,” Mila adds, winking. “You’ll be asleep in no time.”

It’s a good suggestion. Yuuri’s fond of sleeping, and something he’s sorely missed in the past few hours. So he rests his head on Yuuko’s shoulder and closes his eyes.

There are only a few things that Yuuri remembers after that.

First is the low murmur of Yuuko’s voice, curling around a language that doesn’t want to translate in Yuuri’s mind, and the gentle responses of Viktor and Mila in return. He catches his name once or twice, but he sinks back into slumber and fails to hear the rest.

The next is the feeling of arms around his waist, and the sound of his boots whispering against smooth tile.

“We’re here, Yuuri,” someone says softly, their shoes clicking on the floor. “Mila’s showing Yuuko where her room is, but you can rest for a while longer if you need. Yakov and Lilia know that you had a long journey.”

Yuuri loses track of time for a bit, but then he finds himself being placed onto something soft, his boots and glasses are pulled off, and a thick blanket is placed over his body. The person begins to pull away, but Yuuri sleepily latches onto them with a frown.

“Stay,” he slurs, his voice heavy with sleep. “Just for a bit.”

They hesitate, but then there’s a body sliding next to his, warm and strong and soft. Something tickles his nose, and Yuuri snuggles closer, breathing in the sweet scent of pine. A hand tentatively rests in his hair, and he leans into the touch, sighing when the hand begins to stroke rhythmically.

“Sleep well, Yuuri,” they say, and Yuuri does.

 

* * *

 

A set of three knocks startles Yuuri from sleep.

It takes him a while to register where he is, confusion swimming through his mind at the unfamiliar decor throughout the room, but then his heart sinks in his chest when he remembers where he is.

Petrograd. Kievan.

_The carriage ride._

Before Yuuri can think on that any longer though, Yuuko then walks in without further preamble, a fresh set of clothes on and her hair pulled into a neat ponytail. “Dinner will be ready in a few minutes,” she tells him, poking through his bag and fishing out the clothes he packed for tonight. “Get changed.”

Yuuri gives a small groan in response, burrowing his head in the pillow. He curls back into the pocket of warmth under the blankets, basking in it and hoping beyond all hope that he’ll never have to leave this room.

But then a small weight settles down by his side, and Yuuri peeks out.

“How are you doing?” Yuuko asks, a small smile on her face. There’s a bit of worry there too, but it’s concealed well; it’s only thanks to how long they’ve known each other that Yuuri even notices. “Viktor’s nice, isn’t he?”

Yuuri shrugs, noncommittal. Yuuko hands him his glasses, and then everything comes back into focus. “He’s—” Yuuri begins, but then he stops, not sure of where he’s going to go with that.

Viktor _was_ nice. There’s no doubt about it. He seemed very willing to go along with this entire arrangement, but there was something else that Yuuri couldn’t completely understand. And it makes sense—they’ve never truly met before today—but it’s just… strange. Yuuri doesn’t know what to do.

“He’s…?” Yuuko prompts.

“I don’t know,” he admits, his eyes downcast. Yuuri traces the blanket’s gold embroidery with a finger as he talks, feeling the soft thread bump underneath his skin. “But you know him better than I do, and I trust your judgment.” He hesitates for a moment, then says with much more confidence than he has, “I’ll try my hardest to make this marriage work.”

Yuuko takes his hand and squeezes. “I’m proud of you, Yuuri,” she says. “I know that this can’t be easy for you at all, but know that I’ll always be a letter away once you get settled after the wedding.”

“Not in the slightest,” Yuuri agrees, but he squeezes back. “Thank you.”

Yuuko leaves Yuuri to freshen up, and then they walk down to the dining hall together once he’s finished. Yuuri was somehow still asleep between the carriage ride and waking up in a strange bedroom, so this is the first time he’s ever really _seen_ the interior of the palace.

The tiled hallways seem endless, and the large pillars supporting the tall, sloping ceiling are gilded with gold. With all the turns they’ve taken just to reach a single staircase, Yuuri has no idea how he’s going to make it back to his room—much less find his way around—but Yuuko seems to know where she’s going. And so he stays close.

“I’m sure Viktor will show you around the palace once you get settled,” Yuuko mentions as they walk through yet another doorway. “I’ve only been here a few times, but it’s not as overwhelming as it used to be. Yuuri?”

Yuuri jumps. “Sorry,” he mumbles. “Just… thinking.”

Judging by the look on her face, Yuuko is unconvinced, but lets it go.

The members of the royal family are already seated when they walk into the dining hall, and Yuuri’s immediately struck by how much they resemble each other. Their delicate bone structures, their light eyes—the only detail that could possibly  _hint_ at their differing parentages is the color of their hair, and even then not by much.

Even beyond Petrograd, it’s well known that none of King Yakov and Queen Lilia’s children are biologically theirs. Any sense of controversy was quickly silenced with Viktor’s appointment as heir—at eighteen and still growing into the man he would become now, there was no question about the king he would eventually be.

And the whispers about Viktor Nikiforov… there were _always_ whispers about what he’s done to be named heir to the Kievanese throne.

Dinner, at first, is quiet.

The king and queen sit at either end of the rectangular table, with their children set in the middle. Viktor is at his father’s right hand, Yuuri is across from him, and Yuuko sits by Yuuri’s side.

Mila immediately sweeps Yuuko up into a conversation, asking about the triplets, Takeshi, the train ride, and everything that passed since the last time Yuuko came to Kievan. Yuuko kindly answers each one, asking questions in return.

Meanwhile, Yuuri quietly eats the food on his plate and tries to avoid Viktor’s curious glances.

“I hope your stay in Kievan has been hospitable so far, Prince Katsuki,” Yakov says to him, his voice gruffer than Yuuri expected.

Yuuri swallows around his spoonful of meat (while wishing there was rice to go with it), and replies, “Your family is very welcoming, and I thank you for receiving me into your home. I look forward to the days to come.”

Then Yuuri hears the _clink_ of someone setting down their glass, and his knee begins to bounce anxiously when he catches the queen looking at him. Yuuri has to resist the urge to straighten his posture under her watchful gaze.

“After the wedding, you will receive regular tutoring to continue your Kievanese studies from home,” Lilia says suddenly, her voice drawing the attention of everyone seated at the table. “Though your grasp of the language is passable, it is not enough to stand properly by Vitya’s side.”

Yuuri’s cheeks burn. There wasn’t any doubt in his mind that his eligibility would be called into question at some point, but he didn’t realize that it would be so soon.

 _Or_ so public.

Then Lilia pauses, her expression softening slightly. “To be part of this family, Katsuki Yuuri, you will need to be strong. There are countless others who would love to see us fall.”

Yuuri tries to hold back a flinch at the last words, and from under the table, Yuuko reaches over to grip his hand. “Of course,” he says, somehow managing to keep his voice steady. “I’ll do my best in every account.”

Lilia scrutinizes him for a moment, judgment passing through her expression, and then she nods. Her eyes glint with something akin to approval. “I expect nothing less,” Lilia says, and Yuuri nearly sags with relief.

From across the table, Mila meets his eyes and offers him a sympathetic smile. _I’m sorry,_ she mouths as the rest of the royal family continues eating.

 _It’s fine,_ Yuuri tries to convey with a smile of his own, and seemingly appeased, Mila turns back to Yuuko as the conversation builds again.

But Viktor—Viktor hasn’t reacted at all.

 _Get ahold of yourself,_ Yuuri scolds himself. _Viktor has no obligation to you._ And who was it that was ignoring Viktor’s previous attempts to talk? As he brings another spoonful of spiced beef to his mouth, Yuuri hopes that this weird thing around them—whatever it is—clears up soon. He doesn’t know how much more he can _take_ before he breaks down into stress tears.

The king and queen retire to their chambers soon after dessert is served, leaving Yuuko as the only buffer between himself and the siblings. They all do their best to speak in Common for Yuuri’s benefit, but with Lilia’s words still ringing in his ears, Yuuri insists that Kievanese is okay. He regrets it nearly a minute later when he tries to contribute to the conversation, tripping over the foreign syllables like he’s never spoken a word of the language in his life.

Viktor glances at him when he thinks Yuuri doesn’t see, his expression most definitely one of pity or disappointment, and Yuuri wants to sob. His heart rate has never spiked this much in a single evening; the stress building up and up and _up_ inside him can only stack so high before it crashes, bringing Yuuri with it.

It feels like forever ago that he said goodbye to his family. His heart aches with the weight of how much he misses them.

“I think it’s time that we go to bed,” Yuuko announces once the dessert plates are cleared, and Yuuri wobbles to his feet, feeling lightheaded with exhaustion. The others are slow to get up as well, with the exception of Viktor, who walks out of the room with a brusque _goodnight._

Yuuri is slightly shellshocked, and it’s apparent that he’s not the only one who feels that way.

“Well,” Mila says, clapping her hands together in an attempt to stave off the awkward atmosphere, “dinner was nice! Right, Yura?” A smile stretches across her face, pleasant enough except for the small, worried wrinkle between her brows, and it’s obvious to everyone who can see that she isn’t the only one bothered by Viktor’s abrupt departure.

And her brother, Yuri, mutters in response, “Yeah, would’ve been nicer if Viktor wasn’t being such a goddamn _jerk_ all the time.”

 _“Yura,”_ Mila and Georgi reprimand at the same time, and though Yuri bristles, he quiets down.

From their reactions, Yuuri deduces that this is something that this is not a new occurrence. None of them look particularly _annoyed_ by their eldest brother’s behavior, just… defeated. Yuuri wonders why.

“I’m going to bed,” Yuri announces, turning on his heel and marching away. After a silent exchange between Mila and Georgi, Georgi follows Yuri out the door, leaving her with Yuuko and Yuuri.

“We were thinking of giving you a tour around the city tomorrow morning,” Mila comments after the door closes behind her brothers. It's an almost flawless change of subject. And though she smiles, Yuuri can tell that she’s worried about something else. “What do you think?”

Yuuri startles slightly, not expecting the question. “I…” Then he thinks of how overwhelming the palace already is, and he knows that getting out of here for even a short while would help clear his head. “Sure. That’ll… that’ll be good.”

“And it’ll be nice for you to get to know Petrograd early,” Yuuko adds. Then her expression brightens. “You can finally try all the food I’ve been telling you about!”

Mila laughs, and her joy is infectious. The previous worry that had settled into her face is gone now, overcome by her excitement for tomorrow.

“The food that the chefs make here is fantastic _,_ but _nothing_ can compare to a babushka’s family recipe,” Mila assures them, still beaming. “Yura and I will take you to the _best_ pirozhki store in the entire kingdom before your family arrives tomorrow.”

And despite himself, Yuuri’s lips quirk up. “I look forward to it,” he tells her, and Mila’s answering smile seems to light up the entire room.

“Get ready, Yuuri,” she says. “We’ll have you falling in love with our kingdom yet!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god I’m so excited for this ahhhhh <3 I heckin _love_ royalty aus!!!!
> 
> My inspiration is shooting through the roof atm and I’m hoping that it lasts for quite a while c’:
> 
> Please let me know what you thought, and I’ll see you soon! <3

**Author's Note:**

> Come scream with me about some soft viktuuris and fic!!
> 
> [tumblr](https://postingpebbles.tumblr.com) // [twitter](https://twitter.com/postingpebbles)


End file.
